Mixed Feelings
by DarkandtwistyGirl
Summary: One day the brother Dean had always known disappeared, and he was replaced by someone Dean barely recognised. Sam’s battle with bipolar disorder. *Complete*
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing that has anything to do with Supernatural or the characters, unless you count the DVDs. This is just for fun.**_

_**Hey folks! Two new fics in two days, go me!**_

**_I got a request from Samgirl19 for among other things, a fic about Sam with bipolar disorder._**

**_For those who don't know what bipolar disorder is, here's a summary:_**

Bipolar disorder — sometimes called manic-depressive disorder — causes mood swings that range from of the lows of depression to the highs of mania. When you become depressed, you may feel sad or hopeless and lose interest or pleasure in most activities. When your mood shifts in the other direction, you may feel euphoric and full of energy. Mood shifts may only occur only a few times a year, or as often as several times a day. In some cases, bipolar disorder causes symptoms of depression and mania at the same time.

Although bipolar disorder is a disruptive, long-term condition, you can keep your moods in check by following a treatment plan. In most cases, bipolar disorder can be controlled with medications and psychological counseling (psychotherapy).

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

The Winchester family, John and his sons, twenty-two year old Dean and eighteen year old Sam were hunters of the supernatural, they saw the out of the ordinary every day, but the events of the following years were like nothing Dean or John had ever seen.

* * *

The first time it happened, Sam was in his final year of high school, and one day John was briefing his sons on the latest hunt he'd found when Sam did something completely unexpected, or rather he said something, "I love that word, knife, don't you love it? It's so great, words that have letters you don't say. It sounds so right, all wordy..."

Sam continued on rambling, Dean and John were too surprised to stop him.

But after listening to the youngest member of their family speaking complete nonsense, John shouted at Sam in frustration, they had already tried talking him out rationally, "Damn it, Sam! Shut up!"

Even that didn't deter Sam.

It took nearly an hour for Sam to settle, and then it was only because out of frustration John had crushed up a sleeping tablet, and slipped it into a drink, which Sam had gulped down.

* * *

The next time was a couple of months later, one morning Sam just wouldn't get out of bed, nothing Dean or John could say or do would make him move.

It went on for six exhausting weeks.

* * *

Then it was just before Sam was to graduate from high school, John was sitting at the table of the house he had been forced to settle down in as Sam's behaviour made him uneasy to move him around any more than needed.

He was going through the bills, gas, water, electricity, and finally the phone bill...

John ripped open the envelope and pulled out the paper. His eyes bulged out of his skull as he looked at the bill, which came in at over three thousand. "What the hell? This must be some kind of-" John was muttering to himself, but as soon as he flipped the page over to the bill summary, he was silenced.

It was five pages long. All bar three calls were 1-900 numbers.

"DEAN! SAMUEL! IN HERE NOW!!" John yelled at the top of his lungs, he hadn't made those calls, and he was damn well going to get answers.

Dean came running out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, Sam came out too, but he was much more leisurely, strolling out of the room he and Dean shared, and down the hallway.

To say John was fuming would be an understatement of epic proportions. He shook the bill in their faces, as he ordered, "Explain, now."

"What's going on, Dad?" Dean asked with question.

"I just got slapped with three grand worth of phone bill, and I know for a fact that it wasn't me who has been calling 1-900 numbers around the clock. And no one's going anywhere until I know who was calling phone sex numbers."

"I swear, Dad, it wasn't me. Anyway, how do you know they're..."

Dean had a point, and picking up the nearby phone, John dialled one of the numbers at random, and placed it on speakerphone just in time for a very seductive voice to resound through the room. Hanging up the phone, John questioned, "That proof enough?"

Sam was still in the clouds, he was staring up at the light, mesmerised.

Dean and John exchanged a meaningful look, they had known that something was wrong with Sam, and they were trying to figure out what to do about his bizarre behaviour, but this...

The kid blushed if he found Dean's magazines, the idea that their Sammy would have called a phone sex line was beyond their comprehension, let alone hundreds of times.

What was going on?

* * *

They got their answer two weeks later. Sam had taken to coming and going as he pleased, at all times of the day and night, despite John and Dean's efforts to stop him.

That night, when Dean had heard a knock on the door, he had thought that it was Sam, at least if he was at the door, he wouldn't be breaking another window to get inside, but when Dean opened the door, he saw two uniformed policemen standing on the doorstep.

"Good evening, sir. We are looking for John Winchester, we believe he lives here."  
"I'm his son, can I help you?" Dean asked tightly, distrustful of the officers.

"Is your brother Samuel Winchester?"

"What's happened? Is Sam okay?" Dean's tone changes instantly.

"Sir, does your brother have any history of psychiatric illness?"

Dean was about to answer no, but then he remembered Sam's recent behaviour. "I don't know, he's been messed up lately... I swear he's gone crazy."

"Sir, your brother is at the hospital. He was found in the middle of the street, highly agitated and naked."

* * *

Their job done the officers left, and then John and Dean went to the hospital, they didn't rush, they both deeply cared about Sam, but after everything, they were hesitant to see him. What was happening to their Sammy? Where was that sweet kid they used to know?

John and Dean went to see Sam, but they didn't go into the room, he was screaming at the top of his lungs, and fighting against the restraints that the nurses had been forced to put him in for his own safety, they couldn't handle dealing with him in that moment.

* * *

Emergency room physician, Dr Simons treated Sam that day. After seeing Sam, John and Dean met with the doctor.

Dr Simons went straight to the point, telling John, "Mr Winchester, I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but we believe that from everything you've told us and what we've seen today, that Sam has bipolar disorder type one, I think that his recent behaviour is the result of a manic episode. With your permission we would like to admit him to the psychiatric unit."

John felt as though he'd just been sucker punched, he'd worked so hard to protect his boys, but when it came down to it, he couldn't keep them from harm. "Bipolar? No way, you don't know Sam, he's not, he can't be..."

"You can get another opinion if you wish. But please allow the admission, Sam needs specialized care, he could have been hit by a car today, until his condition is stabilized he needs to be in a secure unit."

"You want me to get my son committed?! No, not a chance!"

"Mr Winchester, I can't begin to imagine how difficult this must be for you. But it is in Sam's best interests to be cared for by professionals while he is very unwell."

John felt as though he had no choice, he committed Sam to the psychiatric unit. At first Dean had been furious with his father for doing it, but going to see his brother every day, seeing how out of control he was, he came to realise that it was for the best.

* * *

From the day Sam was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, the Winchester's lives were changed forever, it devastated John and Dean to know that their youngest was going to suffer going this potentially crippling mental condition for the rest of his life.

* * *

For Sam though it wasn't an illness, but a gift. He saw his energy, his creativity, his drive and focus as good things, and he couldn't understand why they weren't letting him be happy. Unaware that in reality he was out of control.

* * *

Sam refused to take his medications, he took the meds for the couple of weeks, but then when they started to bring him out of his manic state, he stopped taking them. Sure he would go to the medication counter twice a day, and put the pills in his mouth, and pretended to swallow them, but as soon as he left the counter, he would spit them out, then flush them down the toilet.

The staff knew what he was doing, they'd seen it all before, but they couldn't force him to take the prescribed medications.

Sam never went to groups; he spent his days out in the garden, dancing, singing, writing poetry, or painting, whichever he felt like at that moment.

* * *

But then he fell into a depressive episode, it was as though someone had flicked a switch. It happened while John and Dean were visiting, they were sitting in Sam's room, trying to talk to him while he was working on his latest masterpiece.

"We looked at another centre, in Missouri, they have a great program, the best psychiatrists, a high success rate," John told Sam.

Dean then added something that he knew Sam would be more interested in, "They have art programs, music sessions, all that sort of thing."

Sam ignored Dean as he put a pair of scissors through the canvas he was working on, suddenly bursting into tears, shouting out in despair.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered, "Sammy?! What're you doing?!"

"I'll go get someone."

* * *

After dinner that night, Sam acted on his thoughts, he couldn't stop himself, he didn't want to stop himself, he wanted to die, it felt as though nothing would ever be alright again.

John and Dean had reluctantly left when visiting hours ended shortly before dinner.

Sam numbly went into the bathroom, it was small, just the basics, a toilet, a hand basin, and a shower. He used the shower rail, it was secured to the wall, he took down the shower curtain, and fashioned a noose, which he secured to the shower rail.

He didn't even hesitate as he slipped the noose around his neck, he was tall, and the shower rail wasn't overly high, but that didn't stop Sam as he used his own body weight, pushing himself forwards to tighten the noose.

* * *

_**TBC... If you ask nicely**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing that has anything to do with Supernatural or the characters, unless you count the DVDs. This is just for fun.**_

_**Second part of this fic.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

But his plan was not well thought out, the nurses checked on patients every fifteen minutes, and barely seconds after he had done it, a nurse rushed in.

"Oh mercy," The nurse murmured, she pressed the call button, before going to Sam, and taking his weight, easing the pressure to his airway. "I need help in here!"

Staff rushed into the room, Sam was hastily cut down, and laid on a gurney. He wasn't breathing, so they were using an ambu-bag to force air into his lungs.

* * *

They rushed him downstairs to the emergency department, as was procedure, he wasn't the first to attempt suicide on the unit; they always found a way.

The team in the ER were waiting at the ready for Sam's arrival. Dr Simons, whom had treated Sam when he was first admitted to the hospital, was the treating physician.

"This the suicide?" One of the male nurses, Travis asked as Sam was wheeled into the room.

"Sam Winchester. He was found hanging from a noose, maybe ten minutes ago, not breathing, but he's got a steady pulse."

"Okay folks, we'll take it from here," Dr Simons said as he moved forward to assess Sam's condition. He remembered Sam coming into the emergency department five months earlier, it had been memorable to say the least.

_**

* * *

**_

Flashback

Sam was brought into the emergency department by the police, who at that time believed Sam was drunk, but they'd found his wallet by the roadside, and they were required to take anyone underage who was under the effect of drugs or alcohol, they had no idea how deep the issue ran.

On the way over Sam had nearly kicked the back windscreen out of the patrol car, and the officers brought him in wearing handcuffs, carrying him as he kicked out and screamed at anyone and everyone.

"Doc, we're gonna need some muscle for this one!" One of the officers called out as they carried Sam through the rapidly parting crowd.

Dr Simons called over four security guards, and it took all seven of them and several nurses to get Sam onto a gurney and into restraints.

Through his assessment of the seventeen year old, Sam never stopped screamed and swearing at the physician.

_**

* * *

**_

Present time

"Has his family been called?"

One of the psychiatric nurses who'd brought Sam downstairs nodded, sombrely answering, "His dad and brother are on their way in. They're a very close family, this is going to hit them hard."

They moved on to treating Sam, who while his attempt to take his life had failed, was still severely injured by his attempt. Sam's airway had been crushed, and Dr Simons had to intubate him, and place Sam on a ventilator to allow his battered body to heal.

* * *

John and Dean Winchester had been at the local fast food joint having dinner when the call came in. Sam's been hurt, go to the emergency department; that was all that the nurse would tell them over the phone.

* * *

"HE WHAT!?!" Those were the first words out of John and Dean's mouths, it was almost simultaneous. They had been taken into a quiet room in the emergency department upon arrive their arrival to the hospital.

Neither could fathom that Sam could have attempted suicide, or even more so that he had tried just hours after they had left him.

Sam spent two weeks in the intensive care unit, eleven days of that on the ventilator, before he was moved back to the psychiatric unit.

It would take them months to process what had happened, and neither would ever forgive themselves.

* * *

The next four years blurred together, Sam was in and out of the psychiatric hospital, John went back to hunting, and Dean was left to keep things together.

It was a time Dean wished he could forget.

John killed the demon that had been responsible for Mary's death, but he had been seriously injured in the process, and died in the hospital.

After his father's death, Dean went off the rails for some time, Sam was under involuntary admission when it happened, too caught in his head to process the fact that his father had been killed.

Dean went back to hunting, he got reckless, nearly got himself killed over a dozen times in the year he was gone, he only came back because Sam was getting out, and he knew that Sam couldn't live alone.

Who knows what he would've done if left to his own devices?

* * *

It came to a head one afternoon. Just when Dean thought that there was nothing Sam could do that would surprise him, Dean came back from getting groceries, to find a brand new red Chevrolet Corvette parked on the lawn.

The first thought that went through Dean's mind was, _Damn it, Sammy, damn it._

Dean had no doubt that this was Sam's doing, in that moment he knew that Sam had stopped taking his meds, and most likely he was going into another mania.

Sighing, Dean pulled the impala up onto the lawn, and headed inside to face his brother, unsure of what he was going to find beyond that door.

* * *

The house had been ransacked, and amongst the mess was Sam, dressed in new, clearly expensive clothes, sifting through the mess.

"Sam... stop."

Sam looked up to his brother.

"What're you doing dude?"

"I'm looking for my licence! Where the hell'd you hide it?!" Sam instantly snapped at his brother without provocation.

It still hurt Dean deeply to have Sam so angry at him, and it only made it worse knowing that he couldn't do anything about it, short of force feed Sam his medications. It wasn't the first time Sam had said something strange or puzzling, but yet Dean found himself sighing as he reminded Sam, "You don't have a drivers licence, Sam."

"I DO! YOU TOOK IT YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!! GIVE IT BACK OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!"

Not for the first time Dean just tries to walk away, struggling to handle his brother's suddenly outburst. But once again Sam physically pulled him back, he threw him to the floor, and instead of showing any regret for hurting his brother, Sam just kept screaming.

* * *

Finally after two and a half hours, Dean managed to calm Sam down, and even then Sam was bouncing off the wall, but at least he wasn't screaming.

Sam's latest plan, and seemingly his logic behind buying a car well beyond their means and tearing apart the house was yet another delusion. This time it was the belief that he was an actor, a famous actor with a stellar career.

"I have an audition tomorrow, Dean! Don't you understand how important this is to my career?!" He said it with such frustration and belief of logic, it broke Dean's heart to bring him back to reality.

"You're not an actor, Sammy. You don't have a job. You need to calm down." Dean was exhausted, and he couldn't keep his temper in check, he knew it wasn't Sam's fault, but it was wearing him down.

"It's such a great part! Why don't you understand..." Sam was rambling, his speech getting faster with every word, but his words were nothing compared to how fast his mind was going.

Dean just sat there, and he listened to his brother's disordered thoughts.

* * *

Eventually after hours something inside Dean finally snapped, after years of pain and abuse, suffering on both their parts, he snapped. "Damn it, Sam! Just shut up!"

Sam was actually silenced, Dean had honestly not expected that to work. It brought him down to earth. "Dean?"

"Sam. You back?"

Looking around the house, at the disaster area, Sam regretfully asked Dean, "What happened this time, Dean?"

"You thought you were an actor."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"You're not, you think you are, but you're not. This will happen again, it always happens again, and if you we really sorry, you'd take your goddamned pills!"

Sam huffed, firmly telling Dean, "I told you, Dean, I don't need them, I can't think when I take them."

"It's the disorder, Sam. Please, please just take the pills, I can't keep don't this."

"I said I don't want them, Dean! Leave me alone!"

"Please, Sam, please don't do this again, I can't do this again."

Reluctantly Sam took the pills from Dean's hand, and put them on his tongue as he picked up the glass of water that Dean had put on the table, and with a drink of water, he swallowed the hated medications.

"Let me see," Dean said insistently. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother, but he didn't trust his brother.

Sam opened his mouth for Dean to inspect, giving in to the fact that his brother wasn't going to let him continue doing as he pleased.

* * *

That incident was the last straw for Dean, the next day he put the house up for sale, and he and Sam hit the road. Dean forced Sam to take his meds in front of him every morning and night, Dean loved his brother, but he knew that he couldn't trust him to take the meds voluntarily.

The first year or so, Dean would set up shop in a motel, and leave Sam there while he went on hunts, but as Sam adjusted more to his condition, and the reality he faced, he decided that he wanted to go back to hunting.

And after some debate, Dean let Sam join him on hunts again.

They didn't have an easy life, heaven and hell were literally against them, but they were brothers, they were in it together, and they made it work.

* * *

**_The End._**

**_Please leave me a review! _**

**_And also if anyone has any ideas for my next fic, I'd love to hear them!_**


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